


Faded Melodies

by BlackOrbit



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pianist Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-War, veteran!Levi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-08-20 19:09:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16561607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackOrbit/pseuds/BlackOrbit
Summary: If you look closely, do you see that man? There, near the window, covered by nothing but darkness. And tell me, can you hear that melody? Only a faint sonority but still so full of sadness, full of pain.





	Faded Melodies

Everything is quiet, almost eerily still. The moon stands high, surrounded by heavy clouds and shining weakly through the tall window. The room is dimmed in faint light, barely giving the person away that now enters the room with nimbly and soundless steps. 

There's the scratch of a stool being dragged over the floor, then a low thud. Silence follows, only the faint and distant howling of the wind disturbing the chilly night. A shaky inhale, a deep exhale. Once. Twice.

_"Move! Move!", Levi shouts, sounds of heavy gunfire filling the air, bullets missing him only by a hair's breadth. He hears the high-pitched scream of a woman and he flinches but he doesn't turn around, only hopes it isn't one of his comrades who's facing this sheer violence, praying that death came quickly to her._

Levi cracks his fingers, then stretches his back. His breathing comes out steady and even, but it's controlled, forced. Practiced breathing techniques, trained countless times, needed and used far too often. Breathe in, count to four. Breathe out, count to four. Repeat. He lets his eyes fall closed and slides his fingers over the keys of the massive black piano that stands directly in front of him. Carefully, he puts pressure on one key and a high tone fills the chilly air. His face twitches while he listens to the lonely sound fading into the night. 

_The moment Levi falls he knows it's over. A sharp pain shoots through his ankle, then through his hands when he attempts to cushion the fall on the hard desert ground. He sees his rifle lying ten feet away from him and he forces himself up and begins to crawl. He hears men running and he hears men shouting, in that foreign language, with angry and cruel voices. Levi's green gloves are soaked with sweat when he frantically grabs his weapon and jumps into the nearest bush to his left. The voices are louder now and Levi squeezes his eyes shut and makes himself as small and invisible as possible, praying for his enemies to just walk past him. He got separated from his unit already ten minutes ago and there are at least five men approaching him. When they find him, he'll be dead in a blink of an eye, Levi knows that._

Levi's hands begin to move on their own, moving in a rythm they had countless times before. But he isn't there, isn't present, not really. His mind is far away, back to the memories all those years ago, when he was still young, still full of dreams and hopes, still _believing_. When his biggest wish was to become a professional pianist one day. Long before he he joined the military, eventually became Captain and was shipped out to foreign war zones. Long before he learned what fear and pain _really_ ment. Long before he saw men _die_ and _kill_ right in front of his eyes, before he saw life dripping out of the body in front of him, four holes in his chest, uniform soaked in red, a pool of blood forming on the ground, constantly getting bigger and bigger, saw the man die by his own hands. 

_He doesn't know how he got back to their base, alive. He doesn't know why there's blood on his hands and on the sleeves of his uniform. He can't remember when he lost his assault rifle and his eyes widen when he sees the knife he's clutching in his right hand, blade dull and incrusted in blood, almost impossible for him to let a lower-ranked soldier take it from him when they guard him to the field hospital. He doesn't notice the tears streaming down his face when the military psychologist tells him with careful words that his entire unit was lured into an ambush, no survivors. He doesn't see the pain on Erwin's face when he is so overwhelmed by the shock and that sudden sorrow and his emotions that he looses his consciousness and awakens only two days later, his foot splinted and his hands bandaged, grief and _guilt_ the only emotions in his mind._

Levi shudders. He sees these horrible things all over in his head again, again and again, a never-ending circle of images, guilt, voices, guilt. _Guilt._ It's been over a year since he retired, another two years after that _massacre_ , sent home because of the trauma he'd been faced with since that day and that only got worse over the following months and years. More than a year had passed and it still feels like he's still over there, in that hot and dusty land, constantly fearing for his life, both at daylight and at night, never being _safe_ , fighting for something that seems so irrational now. When he awakens at night, trembling, sweating, crying, sometimes _screaming_ , always reaching out for the sharp knife he still keeps with him wherever he goes, that's when he knows that he won't ever be able to _forget_.

The music has long faded when Levi finally moves. Carefully, he bends down and takes the black knife from the strap around his calf. He weighs it in his hand, as if to test how to hold it, how to use it, gaze pinned down. Levi chuckles once, dryly. And suddenly tears are welling up inside him. Why, _why_ is he still alive? He should have died with his comrades, he should have been with them when the enemy came. He should have been there for them, his friends, his family but he'd failed them. And he didn't only fail his team, he failed the whole army, he failed his country and above that all... he failed Erwin. Erwin, who always told him to take care and watch out for his team, to be a role model, brave, strong, fearless. But he failed, failed them all.

Levi blicks down on his bare arms which are covered with dozens of scars, most of them inflicted in battles. He feels hot and wet tears running down his cheeks and again, he just _hates_ himself, hates himself so much. He has so many scars, ugly and marred, witnesses of the cruel things he's seen, witnesses of the cruel things he's _done_. Slowly, as if being in trance, he positions the knife on his inner arm, right by his wrist. Testing, he puts some weight on it and instantly he feels the pressure on his skin.

But then he realises what he's doing there, what he was just about _to do_ , and with an ugly sob he breaks the contact, places the knife limbly in his lap instead.

"Why? God, why?", Levi cries, tone begging. How many nights did he spend like this, sitting at his piano, freezing, dawn almost indicating a new day, alone. Desperately, he grips his raven hair, pulling at it with much more force than needed. But he doesn't even notice. Images are flashing inside his head again, of his squad, smiling, happy, then dead, of him, captured, tortured, of Erwin, gentle, oh so gentle, shot, blood everywhere, the panic, the _panic_ , the helicopter, the-

"Stop!", Levi screams, now covering both his ears with his hands. "Stop..." A second time, barely a whisper, broken.

Breathe in, count to four. Breathe out, count to four. Repeat. Trembling, he tries to clear his mind, clear his head while he waits for the panic attack to be over. He's exhausted, so damn _exhausted_. He's tried, tried so hard, went to theraphy, even spent some time in one of those special hospitals. But he can't, just _can't_. He wants to, just wants to go back to his normal life, but he _can't_ , he can't let these horrific memories behind. He always thought of himself as a strong and brave person but he was wrong, he is not. He's weak, _weak_ and he let his team _die_ , he doesn't deserve a normal life. Levi knows that.

The tears stopped flowing a couple of minutes ago already but Levi doesn't feel better. His mind is numb, his eyes are hollow. He has no energy left, he can't do this, this, his life, it feels wrong, he doesn't belong here, not anymore. Not since he joined the army and even less since he left the corps. His eyes sting and he knows they're red and swollen and he will look like he didn't sleep at all tomorrow. He groans, a deep and pained sound. 

Suddenly, there are hands on his shoulders, warm and tall, gripping them firmly. Levi doesn't notice any of that. The moment he's been touched it's like he's on autopilot and he doesn't have any control over his body anymore. He tears his body away while simultaneously grabbing the knife again. But before he can stand up and attack his enemy, his wrists are being grabbed in a hard grip, steal-like. Levi jerks violently, desperately trying to free himself. 

"Levi... It's me", a gentle and calm voice says. Levi freezes. 

He blinks and when he looks up, it's Erwin who's towering over him, with messy blond hair and only wearing his pyjamas. Levi blinks again and his gaze switches from the other man's face to his hand, still clutched by Erwin's hand, still holding the knife. He tenses. His eyes dart back to the taller man's face, panic trying to come back to the surface. But Erwin only watches him calmly, his eyes showing nothing but understanding. Silently he loosens his grip, carefully but firmly taking the tool out of his hand and laying it on top of the piano. Then he turns back to Levi. Maybe it's the way Erwin is lookig at him, maybe it's the realisation that perhaps his trauma will never be cured and he has to live this _broken_ to the end of his life or maybe it's just Erwin who's here, with him, _for him_ , no matter what but suddenly Levi is crying again, hot tears spilling over. He drops his gaze, instantly feeling guilty again, for _attacking_ Erwin, _Erwin_ , already feeling the self-hate rushing through his veins. "Erwin, I'm so sorry", he whispers, standing powerlessly in front of the blonde. 

"There's nothing to be sorry for", Erwin murmurs back after a moment of silence. Then, he takes the younger man in his arms, embracing him tenderly. Leaning into his hold, Levi sniffs, eventually letting himself relax and now also wrapping his arms around Erwin's torso.

"You are strong, Levi", Erwin says, his voice sounding urgent. "And you are needed! I need you, Levi. And don't you ever dare thinking about", Erwin's voice quivers and there's a short pause, "just _giving up_ again, okay? It _will_ get better, do you hear me?"

Blinking against the water in his eyes, Levi weakly nods against Erwin's chest. "Promise me, Levi?", the blonde answers while tightening his grip. "Yeah", the shorter male sighs, feeling drained. "Good", Erwin whispers and carefully he cups his face with his warm hands. "I love you. And I need you." He brushes his thumbs over the other man's wet skin and Levi immediately feels like crying all over again. But he composes himself, clears his throat and says with a quiet voice: "Let's go back to bed, ya?" Erwin only smiles while giving a short nod and takes his hand, leading him out of their tall living room. 

On the horizon, the sun is starting to rise, painting the sky in a warm yellow.

**Author's Note:**

> First of all: maybe you can't believe it, neither can I, but I'm back, finally! xD It have been some rough months since I posted last and I spent most of the time at work and didn't really find the time to actually sit down and write for a couple of hours. But this story has been in my drafts forever and I finally managed to finish it :3 xD


End file.
